Witness
by RosannaStone
Summary: Gemma Wayne sees the Joker for the first time- and realizes that he saved her life when he was a teenager. But the guardian angel she knew and the criminally insane clown who wants are two very different people.
1. Remembered Memories and Healing Wounds

It was warm in Gotham, but not the type of heat that made people want to walk around the city. A layer of clouds hung low in the sky, trapping the summer heat of the day on the streets. The summer made teenagers do stupid things- it made them stay up late, stay out late, break hearts, break curfew. But none of those things were on the minds of three teenage boys as stood on the corner of Third Avenue and Lexington. They were more focused on the store they were about to rob.

The three boys were young, but they had old faces, like they had grown up a long time ago. The tallest one was also the strongest. He had a handsome face and dark blue eyes that glinted in the streetlights. The shortest man had dark skin and dark eyes, and he seemed jumpy, skittish. The other boy was the youngest, no older than 17. He wasn't the tallest or the shortest, the strongest or the weakest. He had skin that was somewhere between light and dark, and a mess of blonde wavy hair that covered his hazel eyes, which shifted from brown to green in the light. The only definite thing about him was a small scar on his temple, hidden most of the time by his hair. It had been a deep wound, because the scar was still dark in color.

"Jack, you ready to go in?" asked the tallest.

The blonde boy nodded.

"Jalen, ready?" asked the tall guy again.

"Ready, Nick." The shortest man replied.

Nick, Jack, and Jalen turned towards the store on the corner. It was a convenience store, stocked to the brim with trashy magazines, cigarettes and liquor. And, occasionally, money.

The store was usually empty at this hour, and that's what they were planning on. The street was just a few blocks away from the business district, right before the Narrows began, so it wasn't teeming with nightlife. That meant no witnesses.

Nick went in first. He walked around the store, stopping in the chips aisle, where he pretended to make his selection. The cashier looked up for a second from his magazine uninterestedly, and took a drink from his soda before looking back down. That was the beauty of Nick's charm and good looks- no one suspected anything from him. A minute later, Jalen walked through the door. Nick yelled a "Hey, man!" across the store, and they began talking like they were old friends. Their talk soon became louder as they faked more enthusiasm, and after a particularly funny "joke", Jalen backed into the magazine stand laughing. The rack spilled all over the floor, sending magazines everywhere. The cashier rolled his eyes and walked around the counter to clean up the mess. This was part of the plan; there was a gun behind the counter for the worker to protect himself. Luring him out in the open meant that Jack could get a better shot at him.

Jack slipped into the store as the magazine rack fell over. He walked up silently behind the cashier and shot him in the back of the neck. The silencer on the gun made a satisfying sound as the man fell over on the floor with a thud. Nick and Jalen sprang up and headed to the counter. Nick went through the register, while Jalen searched for the video surveillance VHS and ejected it so that there was no way to identify them.

"Look at this cash- this is more than the last two weeks combined! We made bank!" laughed Nick, counting the bills in his hands. Jalen walked over and slapped him on the back, and they let out yells of joy as they found a few more 100s tucked under the drawer.

Jack was silent as he looked out onto the street, gun still in hand. His job was to make sure no one on the street was getting suspicious, that no one had seen the cashier die and had called the police. But the only people outside were a few downtowners stumbling into a cab, and a homeless man sleeping on a bench almost a block away. Jack walked towards the back of the store, past Nick and Jalen, who were still counting their money. Jack scoffed as he walked past them- it was all about the money for them. Sure, the cash was nice, and it meant that there was no need to choose between the heating bill and good food, but it wasn't why Jack did this all the time. He liked pulling the trigger. It was his job, what he was best at.

Jack reached the back row of the store and turned the corner, and let out a small groan. Because tucked in the corner, shivering between the beer display and the milk cooler, was a young girl. She couldn't have been more than five. Her wide brown eyes were visible behind a curtain of brunette curls, and a few tears were running down her face. For a moment Jack and the girl looked at each other, first with surprise, then curiosity. The girl glanced up at the dark scar on his forehead, so Jack self consciously shook his hair in front of it. Jack took a step forward, but the girl backed even farther into the corner and hid her head between her hands. She was scared of something… Jack realized he was still holding the gun and slid it into his coat pocket. He tried to approach her again, this time a bit slower.

"Hi there, uh, girl. Whatcha doing here? Where's your mommy?" he said. She looked up, and upon seeing that he didn't have a gun, she looked into his eyes. Jack hated looking people in the eyes, but for some reason this girl wouldn't look away- and neither could he. The staring contest was interrupted when Jalen rounded the corner.

"Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. SHIT! Nick!" yelled Jalen.

Nick came running and swore when he saw the girl.

"When did she get here? Is anyone else in here? She's a witness. We have to..."

Jack knew what Nick was about to say.

"We are not getting rid of her. She's alone, which means that someone is looking for her. Do you really want to deal with another body?" Jack said.

Nick was silent for a minute. He didn't like when someone questioned his authority, especially when that someone was the only one with a gun.

Nick eyed the girl. "What the hell are we supposed to do with her then? We can't just leave her. She knows our faces- she could talk to the police. This kid could send us to jail. I'm not gonna take my chances."

Nick took out his own gun and pointed it at the girl. Jack lunged at him, and the gun went off.

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><p>I woke up from my dream with a start. I was back in my room, in the Wayne Penthouse, in Gotham. No convenience store, no guns, no Jack. I was used to the dream by now; it happened every now and then, just as it had for the past twelve years. I knew that I was the girl in the dream. But for some reason, I had a feeling that my dreams weren't only dreams- that maybe they were memories. I couldn't help but feel like I knew the people in the dream. Especially Jack. There was something about how he seemed in the dream. He wasn't just a character, a product of my imagination. He was a person.<p>

I told Bruce my theory once. He said that sometimes memories could get confused with dreams, and dreams with memories. He assured me, however, that my dream was probably just that- a dream. I knew he was wrong though. I could feel it- the dream about the girl in the store was my own memory.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. A second later, Alfred walked through the door, balancing a tray of waffles, a jug of orange juice, silverware, a card on a tray, and a matchbox in his hands with skill that only came from decades of experience.

"Good morning, Miss Gemma!" He said brightly. "And happy birthday!"

"Thanks Alfred," I said with a smile.

"I'm afraid we only have one candle left. My birthday was last month, and you know we had to put more candles on that cake then I would have liked! You'll just have to pretend you have 17 candles," he said with a wink. I laughed and watched him light the one candle on the waffles. Alfred always knew how to make me feel better after the dream, and he could always tell by the look on my face when I had dreamt it that night.

"Another one of those dreams?" he asked.

I nodded silently.

"I'm sorry, Miss. Let's hope they don't happen again, shall we? Now make a wish and blow out your candle!" he said.

I closed my eyes and blew out the flame, which led Alfred to applaud loudly. I smiled at the old butler as he grabbed the smoking candle and left the room, no doubt to make breakfast for Bruce. I eyed the card on the silver tray on her bed and reached for it, immediately recognizing my uncle's handwriting.

Dear Gemma,

I'm afraid I'm busy all day at Wayne Tower, so I won't be able to celebrate your birthday with you. How about we have dinner tonight with William at that Italian place on 5th, the one with the crazy Irish waiter? See you at 7.

Happy 17th,

Bruce

I set down the card and smiled. I love my uncle, even if he isn't home as much as he could be. I was adopted by Carlisle and Natalia Wayne when I was five. My younger brother, William, was born a few years later, making me seven years older than him. Natalia and Carlisle were kind people, but they didn't have a lot of time to raise us between their various business affairs and social events. As a result, William and I had been raised by an army of nannies, tutors, and chauffeurs. When Carlisle and Natalia died in a car accident right before my 16th birthday, I was old enough to choose our next legal guardian. There weren't a lot of people to choose from. Sure, there was a slew of family friends that barely knew her, an old grandma that was aging fast, and an aunt that lived somewhere in Montana. But my recently "rediscovered" uncle, Bruce Wayne, was my first choice. He knew what it felt like to be an orphan at a young age, so he opened his doors to us. When Wayne Manor caught on fire, Bruce bought an expansive penthouse in the city, with separate quarters for both William and I.

I heard another knock at the door, and William walked in. He was holding a huge bulky thing behind his back, and I laughed as I realized it was my present.

"Happy birthday, sis!" he said, jumping on the bed. I was able to hold onto the tray of food, but the card and platter went flying off my bed. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that not even my orange juice had spilled.

"Thanks, Will," I replied as he devoured my side of bacon. "God, doesn't anyone feed you?"

"Nope. I'm photogenic. I get all my energy from the sun!" he said with a smirk.

"That means you take good pictures, smart alec. You mean photosynthetic," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Well, I suppose I am handsome as well as a sun God. Now, open my present!"

He presented me with a square thing wrapped in newspaper. I opened the layers until I reached his gift. It was… a stapler.

"Wow… you go me a stapler… for my seventeenth birthday…." I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

"Not just a stapler. It was the last one sold to the public before they were all recalled. Apparently if you open it up all the way, it shoots staples at people without warning. It's, like, possessed!" he said.

"Oooooh, I get it, you got me a _paranormal_ stapler! Thanks Will!" I said with fake excitement.

"You _still_ don't get it, Gem. If you "accidently" shoot this stapler at yourself, then you could file a lawsuit against the company. This stapler is worth millions!"

I stared at William with a mixture of fear and awe. He was a genius- but not in a good way. I worried for him sometimes.

"I am soooo not shooting a stapler at myself! But it was a nice thought. Thanks!" This time I really meant it.

"Ok, so now that that's out of the way, turn on the TV! The Saturday morning cartoons are almost over!" he said.

I sighed in defeat and reached grabbed to remote, which turned on the TV over the fireplace. I flipped through the channels, looking for the cartoons, when something caught my attention. On the news channel there was a breaking news story, and it was happening right down the street.

"Hey, Gem, isn't that the bank down the block?" asked William.

I nodded and shushed him, turning up the volume.

"Breaking news," began the reporter. "Gotham Bank was robbed this morning. The thieves made away with millions in cash. The bank has, in the past, been a suspected money laundering front for the mob. The criminals were all wearing masks, but one showed his face to the camera. Gotham Police are circulating the image, hoping that someone else can identify this man."

A grainy security camera photo appeared on the screen. It was of a man in a purple suit. He didn't look like a man at all, really. It was hard to tell what his face looked like under the clown makeup. But there was something about him that caught my attention. Aside from the scar on his mouth, I recognized the man. The eyes that weren't really any color, the dyed green hair that looked blonde underneath, the calm stature- he looked exactly like the Jack in my dreams. He _was_ Jack.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself. There was no way a guy in my dreams could be a criminal on the news. Jack could look like anyone really. That was the ambiguity of him. Then I remembered that Jack had a scar on his temple. It was a long shot, but I knew that it was the only way to know for sure. I took a closer look at the screen, and gasped. There was the smallest scar on the clown's right temple, visible through the slightest smudge in his makeup.

I started breathing faster as I took it all in. The masked psycho on the screen had the same scar as Jack. He was Jack. Which meant that I was the girl in the convenience store in my dream- no, memory. It had to be a memory. So the crazy guy robbing a bank was real. And, if I remembered correctly, he had saved my life.


	2. Party Crashing

**Hey guys! SOrry this took me so long, it's been a busy few weeks. SO to make up for it I combined two chapaters into one:) I hope you like it! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, your reviews definetly help me out a lot, especially your suggestions! (Sakura Blossom- I loved your suggestion and will definelty use some of it next chapter!) I also enable anonymous review because I didn't even know that was disabled! DO you think anyone even reads these note thingies? I doubt it. I could say really stupid stuff and no one would notice;) I own a pet chamealon named Ichabod. Read and Review Please!**

**Thanks to everyone who reads this story. You all just rock. **

**Soooo I hope you enjoy this chapter... cause it has some Joker:) **

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><p>"Gemma? Is anyone in there? Gem!" yelled Will. He slapped me on the arm, which startled me out of my daze.<p>

"What?" I said.

"Are you gonna call a cab or just stare one down?" he said, pulling me towards the curb in front of our building. He shook his head and gave me a suspicious look.

"You have been out of it all day! What's gotten into you?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him dismissively, but I knew he had a point. Ever since the news broadcast, I had been in a state of confusion and shock, which made my mind overactive, but my body a zombie. I had spent most of the afternoon on my laptop, searching everything I could on Jack, the Gotham bank robbery, and a convenience store on the corner of Third Avenue and Lexington, and gotten nowhere. "Jack" without a last name was pointless, and there was very little news on the Gotham bank story because the Major Crimes Unit had taken control of the crime scene, limiting press coverage. There was no convenience store on the corner of Third and Lexington, only a nail salon, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe every connection to my dream and real life I had made was a coincidence. This idea was shot to hell when I checked to public records- Delilah's Nail Salon had been previously been Lou's Corner Store, a family owned business that had been operating well before and long after I was born.

This revelation gave me a headache, and by five thirty I was ready to take some Advil and fall asleep- preferably for a long time. I had been stopped by Alfred on my way to bed, and informed that pajamas were hardly appropriate dinner attire for fine Italian dining. I had completely forgotten that I had birthday dinner tonight with Bruce and Will.

A frantic shower and wardrobe change later and here I was outside our building with Will. He seemed to be struggling with his cufflinks, and when I leaned over to help I finally took a good look at him. He was wearing a suit and dress shirt, which had been unbuttoned to show off a gold chain and most of his upper torso. His normally floppy hair had been slicked back with copious amounts of gel, and he smelled strongly of what could only be old spice, axe, and formaldehyde mixed together.

"Dear God, Will, what happened to you?" I asked as hurriedly buttoned up his shirt.

He hung his head in shame and whispered, "Frankie ambushed me."

Frankie was the doorman for our building. Even though he was well into his seventies, he still believed that every male in Gotham should look like they were in a mob movie set in New Jersey. He frequently attacked poor William with bottles of gel and cheap cologne, but William had, for the most part, figured out how to sprint past the door when it was his shift. This time, however, Frankie had won.

"There is no way you can go to dinner looking like this- or smelling like this for that matter. You look like the Jersey Shore threw up on a mob boss. Go upstairs and have Alfred clean you up," I ordered.

"But what about Bruce! We're supposed to be there in ten minutes!" he complained. I realized that the only way to clean up William and not stand up Bruce was to split up.

"Have Alfred take you in the car when your normal again. I'll take a cab and let Bruce know you'll be late."

William nodded and ran back inside the building. I got in a cab and rode silently to the Italian restaurant, a silent debate raging in my head. Should I tell Bruce about my dream- or memory, as I now knew it to be? Or should I just keep it to myself? I decided that it would be best not to bring it up in front of him. The dream had always been a touchy subject around him. I would let it drop- for now.

The taxi pulled up to the restaurant, and I got out, passing a twenty to the driver. Apparently that was a lot more than I owed him, because he yelled a "Thanks, miss!" out the window as I walked away. I was so distracted I probably would have handed him a wad of gum if that's what had been in my purse.

Il Pipistrello di Cucina was Bruce's favorite resturaunt, so much so that he bought it from the original owner. The tall ceilings, chandeliers, and dark lighting all contributed to the formal atmosphere of the place. I spotted Bruce sitting at his table right in the middle of the resturaunt, in full view of the other tables. Typical Bruce.

"Gemma! Happy Birthday!" he said, standing up to give me a hug. "Alfred called and told me what happened to William. That kid needs to work on his sprint if he ever plans on escaping from Frankie!"

He pulled out my chair for me and allowed me to sit down. I was aware of more than a few eyes on him, mostly female. He had a reptuation for being a playboy billionare, yet for some odd reason I had never once seen him bring anyone home. I had a feeling it was all a big show he put on for Gotham, but I couldn't imagine what could be hidden beneath the facade.

Bruce reached underneath the table and grabbed my present, a small black jewelry box engraved in gold. Inside was a small crystal heart on a silver chain. The heart, in the dark shadow of the jewelry box, looked black. But when Bruce reached over and held it up to the light, I saw what made it so special. Once the light hit the pendant, it blazed with color, from bright red to green to dark blue and every color in between, each cut of the crystal catching the light and reflecting it a different way.

"Bruce it's beautiful, thank you!" I said, sincerely meaning it. It was the coolest present anyone had ever given me. I would say it even topped Will's stapler/ lawsuit- but barely.

"Things aren't always what they seem. Some things seem one dimensional until you hold them up to the light," said Bruce. It was an uncharecteristically deep outburst for my uncle. Sure, he wasn't shallow, but he usually kept his thoughts to himself.

I nodded and thanked him again, a little confused about his behavior. Why so serious?

I put on the necklace to show him how much I appreciated the gift, but his attention seemed to have moved elsewhere. I turned around to see, sure enough, the only girl who had ever seemed to catch his eye. Rachel Dawes was walking in the door with her boyfriend, Harvey Dent. I liked Rachel (barely) enough, especially since I had known her for many years, but I hated how she made Bruce act. I had never asked what had happened between them, but I was sure that Rachel had moved on and Bruce hadn't quite done that yet.

"Rachel!" Bruce yelled, catching her attention. She turned and waved, with something that wavered between a smile and a grimace on her face.

"You don't mind if Rachel eats with us, do you?" Bruce asked. I shook my head. He called her over, where he had another table brought up to ours. It was almost hilarious how much repressed tension was in the air. I imagined Dent wasn't too happy about his date being commandeered by an ex fling of his girlfriend's , but he kept an even face as he introduced himself.

The adults began talking, and as hard as I tried to, I just didn't care that much about politics. As Bruce began talking to Harvey about throwing him a fundraiser, my attention turned to my heart pendant. I spent the next five minutes tilting it from side to side, watching the colors change.

Luckily, I was spared the torture of more politics by the arrival of William. He was led through the doors by Alfred, and looked a lot more like his normal self. Minus the cologne smell- that crap lingered like none other. William took a seat beside me, and we were able to spend the rest of dinner talking to each other, joining into the adult conversation as soon as it shifted away from politics.

Dinner was followed by a surprise cake brought out by the head chef in honor of my birthday, and a chorus of Happy Birthday To You led by the other diners in the restaurant. Soon after, Harvey and Rachel stood up, handshakes and hugs were exchanged, and they left Bruce, Will and I at the table.

"I'm taking my car, and Alfred is waiting outside in the Escalade to take you home. I'll be out tonight, so don't wait up," said Bruce, giving us both hugs.

"Where will you be?" asked Will. I rolled my eyes. I had long since stopped asking why Bruce seemed to disappear after dark, but William was more diligent than me. We both knew Bruce was lying, because every morning when he woke up, he seemed to be recovering from random bruises and sores, not hangovers.

"At a party," Bruce answered easily.

"Who's having a party?" Will shot back.

"Friends, from work. You wouldn't know them," said Bruce.

William seemed resigned to the fact that Bruce just wasn't going to tell him anything else, so he said his goodbyes and ran out the front doors to the car. I said goodnight and followed after Will, waving goodbye to Bruce.

A week had passed since the dinner, and nothing had happened. School was out, the closer friends that I had were all out of the country, and Bruce was on a business trip somewhere. The lack of activity meant that I spent most of my time watching TV or using my laptop. And as much as I tried not to, I couldn't stop researching the Joker, or Jack, or anything related to my dream. There wasn't much to learn that I didn't already know, besides the fact that, according to public records, Lou's Corner Store had been a crime scene for murder many years ago. The case was still unsolved- no fingerprints, no DNA, no shell casings or footprints. It was simply like no one had been there to commit the crime in the first place.

The Joker had gained public recognition by now, but that only made him more mysterious. No one knew who he was, where he was from, or why he was terrorizing Gotham. All the police knew was that they knew nothing.

I felt a twinge of guilt every time the newscaster said, "The police are asking anyone with information to immediately call their crime tip line." It wasn't like I could tell anyone what I already knew. I imagined what that call would be like. "Hey, I think the Joker is this guy who robbed a store a long time ago and killed a dude, and his name is Jack, and I know this because I had a dream about it." Yep, that message would get deleted after the first five seconds.

The fundraiser Bruce had promised Harvey Dent was set for tonight. I hated fundraisers- they were all about politics, which was the one thing I hated most about adults. But I completely supported Harvey in whatever it was he was doing, because Bruce liked him, and that was rare.

I decided it was better to get ready early rather than late. I walked into my closet and went through my options, and decided on a long black strapless dress with a slit up the side. It wasn't too high, but it was high enough that it would probably annoy the crap out of little miss perfect Rachel. As an added bonus, I could wear my heart pendant with it. I did my makeup and tamed my long curly hair as much as I could, and then walked upstairs to Bruce's part of the penthouse. The stairs led right up to the entryway, next to the elevator, which meant that anyone entering and exiting the penthouse had to do it through the one elevator.

The spacious entryway had been transformed into a stylish blend of ballroom and lounge. Apparently I had taken longer to get ready then I thought, because there were dozens of guests already mingling and sipping champagne. To avoid awkward conversation with people I barely knew, I hurried over to Rachel and Harvey, the only familiar faces in the crowd.

"Oh, hello, Gemma!" said Rachel. "You look… nice."

"Thanks Rachel." The sarcasm was hard to miss in my voice. "Hey, Harvey!" I said brightly, turning away from Rachel to face him.

"Hello, Gemma. I'll be honest- I hate these things," he whispered under his breath as Rachel said hello to another guest.

I laughed and said, "It helps if you look too important to be approached. Like this." I demonstrated the technique by holding my champagne flute with my pinky sticking out and I tilted my chin up to a ridiculous angle. I knew I looked stupid, but all the guy needed to do was relax a little. He chuckled at my technique and then tried it himself.

"Ok, just kidding, the look only works on some people!" I laughed. Rachel turned back to us and said, "Harvey, we need to talk." He threw me an apologetic glance as he was hurried away by Rachel.

I waved goodbye to them, but I had barley turned around when something crashed into me at full speed. I looked down to see my brother, looking dapper in a black suit. He was overly excited about something, because his words kept on getting jumbled as he jumped around in front of me.

"Will, calm down, use your words!" I said.

"It's- It's- Marco Eliminatoria!" he said, still jumping with excitement. Apparently those words were supposed to mean something to me, so when I gave him a blank stare he added, "The most famous wrestler in, like, the entire world! He's here!" he said, pointing towards the crowd. Across the room I could see the torso of a man with a handlebar mustache above the crowd.

"Okay, so, do you want me to help you stare at him, or-" I started.

"Gem, I need my camera! I want to take a picture with him- Bruce will flip when he sees it! But my camera is downstairs, on my desk." He said.

"Okay, so, do you want me to cheer you on as you go get it?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "No! I need you to go get it. I can't leave and risk losing sight of him!"

"William, I don't think you're gonna have any trouble finding him again. He's a two feet taller than everyone else, so he kinda sticks out," I said.

"Please?" Dear God. Not those fricken puppy dog eyes. I sighed in defeat and headed past the elevator and down the stairs to Will's room.

I got to his room and shut the door behind me. One of the cooler things Bruce had given William was a state of the art surround sound system for his iPod. I wasn't that into technology and gadgets and crap, but I wasn't gonna argue that the sound system was the coolest thing ever. I pressed shuffle on his iPod so I would have some music as I looked for his camera. To my complete and utter despair, a rap song came through the speakers, the bass shaking the room a little. Kids these days weren't gonna go deaf because of loud music- they were gonna go dear because of _bad_ music.

Unsurprisingly, Will's camera was not sitting on his desk. Maybe he meant in his desk? I shuffled through the drawers, which were full of random bits of paper and at least fifty usable pens and pencils. Upstairs I heard a loud noise, but I assumed it was Bruce's helicopter landing on the pad. The pilot was sometimes bad about finding the middle ground between soft landings and hard landings. I continued to rifle through his drawers for a few minutes, but I finally gave up. After a few more seconds of scanning the room, I spotted the camera thrown carelessly into the armchair in the corner.

The loud rap song ended, and in the silence before the next song I heard raised voices, then screams and what sounded like gunshots. I dropped the camera and raced towards the stairs. Right as I began my ascent, I heard the sound of breaking glass, and then a scream that sounded eerily familiar. This only made me go faster, but my heels and long dress weren't the easiest things to run in. Panic overtook my mind. Where was Will? Bruce? Were they aright? What was happening?

I finally reached the top of the stairs and saw what had happened. The mass of horrified guests had been herded towards the walls, and in the middle stood the Joker and a few other men dressed as clowns, most of them writhing on the floor holding various wounds. One of the big windows was shattered completely.

"We're done here, folks!" the Joker was saying, addressing the room at large. "Let's, ah, get this show on the road, shall we?" he said to the pained men lying around him. They pulled themselves to their feet and grabbed the various guns scattered across the clearing. The Joker marched up to the elevator and pressed the down arrow. I realized he still had a gun- and a big one, too. There was no way anyone was going to mess with him on his way out. The partygoers began to whisper amongst each other, not loud enough to hear words, but just enough so that there were faint voices here and there; many were reassuring each other, but panic could be heard in most of them.

The elevator was taking excruciatingly long to get to the top floor. The Joker rocked back and forth on his heel and began humming an annoying bright tune. In any other situation, the scene could have been comical, but the Joker had cast a certain aura on the room that made even his "elevator music" sound threatening.

I realized how close I was to the elevator, so I tried to press myself into the wall and be as unnoticeable as possible. It was hard to do, though, when I couldn't take my eyes off Jack. Most of the other people were staring warily at his gun, or his henchmen, or his scar. I, for one, couldn't get enough of those eyes. They had the ability to be alive and dead at the same time. They seemed to be no color at all, just dark, until they caught the light. Then the greens and browns in his eyes could be seen, as well as flecks of gold and hazel.

A movement across the room caught my attention. Will had finally spotted me, and was waving his arms so I could see him too. I motioned for him to stop moving- I didn't want him to attract any attention from people other than me. He didn't quite get the message though, and pointed at himself, and then at me, and then the perimeter of the room. I widened my eyes and shook my head vigorously as I realized what he was going to do. He was going to try and sneak through the crowd to get to me. I used every physical way of communicating "stop" I could think of, but Will didn't listen and began heading my way.

All was going well until he accidently bumped a table. A precariously balanced wine glass went crashing to the floor. The room gasped in unison, and one lady even let out a little screech of surprise. The Joker whirled around to see where the crash had come from. Will, scared out of his mind, didn't know what to do. Without thinking, he bolted across the room, straight towards me. The Joker easily snagged him by the collar as he sprinted by and slammed him into the ground. Everything was silent again, punctuated by the loud ding of the arriving elevator.

"It seems we have someone who's a little nervous-ah," he said, looming over William and pointing the gun to his head. "What's your name, kid?" he asked.

"W-William Wayne," he stuttered. I wanted to run to William and pick him up and hug him and tell him there was nothing to be afraid of, but I was frozen with fear.

"Wayne? So you're one of his little rich kiddies!" the Joker said almost gleefully. "I haven't held anyone for ransom before… now this, kid, this could be _fun_. Get up, and get on the elevator." He said, using his gun to point the way. I couldn't take it anymore- I had to do something.

"Hey, leave him alone!" I yelled, stepping away from the wall and towards my brother. One of the other clowns pointed his gun at me and yelled, "Get back!". But the Joker turned and saw me for the first time. I saw his face go from surprise that someone had dared to stand against him, then to confusion when he realized that he knew my face. He stared at me for a few seconds, and I could see him trying to figure it out. HE ran his tongue over his lips, and the second he met my gaze I knew he has remembered me.

He recovered quickly, turning away from William and towards me.

"You're right," he said. "It is a bad idea to leave children alone. That's why, ah, you will be joining us as well."

The closest clown grabbed me by the forearm and threw me into the waiting elevator. The Joker grabbed William by the collar and threw him in after me, then him and the rest of the men piled into the lift. I grabbed William and held him close, and for once he didn't mind one bit. I was crammed in the back corner, but I saw the Joker's eyes flicker over his shoulder towards me as the doors closed. I knew that my presence had thrown him off more than he showed. He was doing what I had been doing for a week now- processing, figuring out where this person from the past was going to fit into the future.

I wondered, as we started our descent, if Jack was still a part of the Joker. I wondered how much human was left in him. As the Joker began to chuckle for no reason, I realized that he didn't need human anymore. He could do whatever he wanted, without facing the consequences, and certainly without caring about them. I got a sinking feeling I my body that had nothing to do with the elevator as the Joker looked over his shoulder again and lifted one corner of his mouth to smirk at me.


	3. The Van

Thanks to

Shauna, XPsychoBabyDollX, Madness is me, and Sakura Blossom 58 for the reviews! This chapter is short, but I have another one coming soon:)

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><p>The elevator stopped on the second floor. I was confused at first, but then realized that the main lobby would be the first place to be secured. I was sure someone had called the police right now, and they were well on their way to the building.<p>

Will and I were pushed out of the doors by two men with guns. I stumbled forward, my high heels unstable as I was pushed down the hall. We walked to a door marked "Employees Only" and went through it. I realized that we were in the network of hidden halls used by the building's services. A narrow staircase took us down to an emergency exit door, and it led us right outside the back of the building, where the alley was.

A van was waiting, the clown-masked driver already at the wheel. The Joker threw open the side doors and ordered us to get in.

"I'm not going with you!" Will said defiantly, backing away from the van. The Joker just smiled and nodded to one of his men, who picked William up and literally threw him in the van. I chose the less painful option and awkwardly climbed in on my own. The van only had two rows of seats besides the driver's row, so the back was big enough to lie down in. With Will and me taking up two of the four remaining seats, I wondered where all of his men would fit.

The answer came to me as the back doors of the van flew open and the men threw in their guns. I realized that I would be able to reach them from my seat, but my heart fell when I saw that everyone was removing their remaining rounds before loading their guns into the van. After the weapons were stored, jackets and masks came off. I realized that these men looked like any other person in the streets of Gotham. They could take a taxi home and not get recognized by anyone.

Shit. No masks meant faces, and faces meant that we could identify people if we were released. This wasn't good at all.

A few clown remained to fill the remaining row, so that the Joker, driver, and three other men were all in the van now. The driver sped off, going down the alley and turning onto one of the streets.

"You in the mask, get the liquid stuff!" he said, vaguely pointing to the row of men. They all exchanged confused glances, not sure who the Joker was pointing at. "You with the hair," he specified. The man with "the hair" reached under the seat and produced a small bag, out of which he pulled a rag and a bottle with clear liquid.

"Now, kiddies, this can be very hard or very easy. Where exactly are your, ah, tracking devices?" he said. Will looked at me with confusion, but I knew what the Joker wanted. Rich people in Gotham got kidnapped more than the police cared to admit. It was profitable and laughably easy way to make money. So many upper class families had tracking devices in case someone got kidnapped. Most people didn't tell their kids where their tracking devices were, and I knew that Bruce sure hadn't mentioned anything to me or William about one, but I wouldn't doubt that he would have done something to track us in case of an emergency. They could be anything from a small chip under the skin to a device on a piece of jewelry- like my heart pendant.

My fingers instinctively went to grab the necklace, and I realized that this could be the tracking device. On second thought, there was no way Bruce would have put a tracker in a piece of jewelry that I only wore on occasion, no matter how much I loved it.

The Joker saw my hands go to the pendant and he smirked.

"Well, now, that wasn't so hard." He said smiling. HE reached over to grab the pendant and pulled it away from me. The back of the necklace caught on my neck as he jerked it forward. The chain wasn't too strong, though, and finally it broke. The Joker threw it to one of the men in the car, who looked at it closely while turning it over in his hands.

"Boss, this is just a necklace," he said, throwing it back to him. "No tracker in here."

"Well then, we're just going to have to, ah, find it! Now, kiddies, this is only gonna hurt a little," he said in a high pitched voice. My eyes widened in fear. When someone said it was only gonna hurt a little, it usually hurt a lot.

The Joker was handed a washcloth doused in liquid. As the smell of chemicals reached me, I realized that it was chloroform. I threw and arm around Will's shoulder under the pretense of comforting him. I knew that I couldn't just sit back and get taken advantage of anymore. It was time to fight back.

As the Joker neared with the chloroform, I slipped my hand from around Will's shoulder and felt around in the back seat. My hands rested on one of the guns that was about a foot long. I knew it had no ammo but that didn't mean it would be useful. I grabbed the gun and swing it over my head, hitting one of the men in the seat in front of me. He groaned and immediately passed out, his head hitting the window with a hard thud.

The Joker reeled backwards in the seat, out of my reach. The other man in the row lunged for me, but I had worked off my high heels by that time and flung one at his face, aiming for the eyes. The heels hit him, but didn't do any damage. I reeled my hand back for a punch but stopped short when I heard a loud clicking noise.

The Joker had a gun pointed at William's head. Will was shaking in fear, and his eyes darted between me and the gun.

"Ah-ah-ah, now I wouldn't move if I were you!" The Joker taunted. I sat back in my seat, defeated.

HE retrieved the wet cloth from the floor and approached William first. Will squirmed under his hand, struggling to breath, but soon his eyes dropped shut and he became limp. The Joker turned towards me, and the cloth hit my face. I tried to spit as the chemical seeped into my mouth, but the cloth left little room to breathe, or do anything else for that matter. My eyes fluttered shut, and the last thing I heard was the Joker saying something that sounded like, "Check the right side first." Before I could understand what that meant, I was out cold.


	4. A Different Kind of Ransom

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**Please contine to read and review. Both praise and criticism help!**

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><p>I woke up slowly, groggily. My head was pounding with every beat of my heart, but that wasn't the only thing that was hurting. The right side of my jaw was throbbing in pain. I used my tongue to feel around my mouth and realized that my right molar was gone. I yelled out in anguish as the throbbing pain got worse. The more I regained my consciousness, the more pain I felt.<p>

I sat up and looked around the room. It was small, with only one window, which was barred from the inside. The only other thing in the room was a gray folding chair. I got up from the floor and pulled myself onto the chair, groaning in pain.

I realized that Will wasn't in the room. MY miond reeled at the thought of what he was going through. Was he safe? Or did the Joker do something to him? Why did the Joker want us anyway?

Suddenly the doorknob twisted and opened, and the Joker and two men walked in.

"How's the toothache, sweetie?" he asked. I wished I could punch him in the face. He looked way to happy that I was in pain. "Your tracker wasn't too hard to find. It was in the first tooth we pulled. Your brother's… well that was more of a _challenge_."

"Where's my brother?" I asked. He looked at me and smiled.

"He's, ah, he's safe…ish," he chuckled.

"I thought you didn't hurt kids, Jack," I said. It was risky, using his real name in front of other people, but wanted him to know that I remembered him. One of the men whispered, "Who's Jack?" and the other guy shrugged.

"Go grab the boy and bring him here. And, uh, get the camera," The Joker said. His tone had gone from elated to threatening, and the men sensed it. They backed out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"So, you remember, huh?" he asked, pacing in front of me. I nodded, staring at him the whole time. The Joker was someone I was afraid of. But Jack? Not one bit.

"How much?"

"I remember that you saved me from Nick. You stopped him from killing me. But after that…" I trailed off. I really couldn't remember anything after that. But surprisingly, this seemed to lift the Joker's mood.

"So you, ah, don't remember anything after that?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Why? What do you want with me and my brother? I promise I won't tell anyone about you, just let him go!"

"You know, that would kind of defeat the purpose of _kid-nap-ping_ you two, so I think I'll stick with my plan, not yours." He said.

"I'll tell. I'll tell those men that work for you all about you, what your name is and that you've been in Gotham before. I'll tell them that you couldn't even kill a five year old girl. They all think you're so crazy, but they won't once they realize you're just a fake. What are you gonna do, kill me? That doesn't seem to be a strong suite of yours," I said coldly.

The Joker's licked his lips slowly, thinking over what I had said.

"You won't do that," he said. "Would you like me to tell you why? If you breathe one word to anyone, I'll kill your little brother. "

The door burst open, and the two men walked in, one with a chair and video recorder, the other dragging William. He looked worse than me. He kept spitting out blood, and he had a nasty bruise on his cheek.

"Will!" I yelled, breathing a sigh of relief. William looked up vaguely and said something that sounded like my name. The man threw him forward, and he stumbled into me. I hugged him tightly as he began to sob.

"What did you do to him?" I screamed at the Joker.

"Like I said, your brother's tracker was, uh, hard to find. It wasn't in his right molar. It took us a few tries- four, actually!" he laughed. "Now, be a good girl and sit down. You too, kid."

Will and I sat down on the chairs. They were placed right next to each other against the wall. When the man handed the Joker the video recorder, I realized what was happening. They were making a video of us.

"Now, all you kids have to do is read these lines. I highlighted them for you and everything!" said the Joker. "Look straight at the camera, and don't say anything other than the lines. But most importantly, just, ah, be yourself."

His attitude was sickening. He smiled as he dropped my script in my lap and threw Will's at him. I picked up the paper and read it. Sure enough, there were my lines, messily highlighted in purple.

_Joker: Good Morning Gotham! You no doubt have realized by now that certain members of high society have gone missing. They have a few words they'd like to say._

_William: We will be kept alive and unharmed for the next 24 hours. During this time, Bruce Wayne must chose which one of us will get released, and which one of us will be killed._

_Gemma: He must make his decision by midnight tomorrow, or else both of us will be returned to him in body bags. If Wayne Tower is lit up in red, you will have chosen for Gemma to live. If the lights are blue, you will have chosen William. _

_Joker:And if you don't chose, then I'll choose for you. _

I realize how painful this would be for Bruce. Not only would he have to chose which of his children would live- he would have to show his choice to the entire city of Gotham.

"Ok, lights, camera, action!" The Joker yelled. He grabbed the camera and pointed it at his face.

"Good Morning Gotham! You no doubt have realized by now that certain members of high society have gone missing. They have a few words they'd like to say," he said.

It was Will's turn. He looked from me to the script, looking scared out of his mind. A scary look from the Joker finally made him read his lines in a shaky voice.

"W-we will be kept alive and unharmed f-for the next 24 hours. During… during this time, Bruce Wayne must choose which one of us will g-get released, and which one of us-" He broke down crying. I reached over to comfort my brother, but the Joker stepped in between us.

"Since Little boy blue over here seems to have emotional issues right now, you're going to say his lines," he said. I nodded my head and he rewinded the tape to start again.

"And, action!" he yelled. He said his first few lines, and then turned the camera on me. I took a deep breath and started reading.

"We will be kept alive and unharmed for the next 24 hours. During this time, Bruce Wayne must choose which method to use to kill the Joker. HE must make his decision by;"

"Gemma, Gemma, Gem-ma," said the Joker, shaking his head. "That's not what the script says, now is it?"

"Oh, sorry, I must have read that wrong. Oh, here's what it really said! 'Bruce Wayne must choose with method to use to kill a _disgusting psychopathic clown_!'" I fired back. I immediately regretted it. The Joker's face went blank, and then out of nowhere he punched me in the face. It was painful, but I thanked the Lord that he didn't hit the side of my face where I was missing a tooth. For the first time I was actually scared.

He leaned down and looked right into my eyes. "I'll just read all of the lines, if that's ok with you." He whispered. I nodded, and he rewinded the camera and started over again, delivering all of the lines gleefully, as if he were announcing a dinner party that he was inviting Bruce Wayne to.

"Make copies of this- it goes to Bruce Wayne and every news station in Gotham. And send a copy to the Major Crimes Unit. I hear they love me down there. Now take the boy back to his room," He told his men. They nodded and grabbed William roughly from his chair.

"Gemma! Gem!" he cried out as they dragged him from the room.

"It's alright Will, we're gonna get though this!" I yelled after him.

"You are?" The Joker asked. I realized that we were all alone now. The men weren't coming back, and neither was my brother.

I pushed the chair back as far against the wall as it would go. The Joker walked closer to me, a smile

forming on his painted face. Soon he was close enough that I could see the scar on his forehead. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

"You see, I'm not sure you'll be able to get through this. Not without a few scars."


	5. Gravity

**Muchos gracias to Shauna, SakuraBlossom58, Alix117, and crazy in a bottle for their reviews:)**

**I was on vacation, but I'm finally back and able to write a lot more often. I hope you enjoy this one;) **

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><p>I lunged towards the door and grabbed the handle, my hands shaking too hard to turn it. The Joker grabbed my hair and yanked it back, throwing me to the ground. He pulled a key out of his pocket and locked the door, then placed the key back inside his jacket.<p>

I tried to get up from the floor, but the Joker pinned me down, his legs straddling my waist and his hands pinning down my arms above my head. He still held the knife in his right hand, and I felt the edge of the blade press into my wrist. I struggled under him, twisting back and forth under his weight. He laughed as my attempts to get free failed. He moved both of my wrists to his left hand, leaving him free to move the knife to my neck. The pressure of the knife against my neck wasn't hard enough to leave a deep cut, but I felt small beads of blood roll down my neck.

I closed my eyes and waited for the real pain to start, but nothing happened. I opened my eyes slowly and saw him looking at me. Our eyes met, and as much as I tried to look away I couldn't. I suddenly remembered the first time I met Jack, when he looked into my eyes and wouldn't look away.

"Why now? Would you really kill me now?" I whispered. The pressure from the knife eased, and I felt it leave my skin. He stared at me for a few more seconds before getting up.

I drew my knees to my chest and watched the man pacing before me. His eyes were avoiding me now. I could tell that there was something unsettling to the Joker about seeing me. He was obviously someone who had distanced himself from his past, so much so that he had ceased to be Jack. But Jack had left one memory behind, and that was me.

"What happened that night?" I asked. He shook his head and kept on pacing; I could tell he wasn't arguing with me, but with himself. Finally, still pacing, he spoke. His voice was low and weirdly monotone, much different than his normal one.

"That night, Nick shot at you. I tackled him, but the gun went off and hit Jalen. I knocked Nick out, and drove all of us to the docks. I got you out of the van and set it on fire. I carried you to a police station and told you to go in. I left Gotham right after that." He said. The words seemed cold and unfamiliar in his mouth, like he had never said them before. I wouldn't doubt it.

"But what happened to you? You saved my life, yet here you are ready to kill me and my brother. What happened to you that was so fucking bad that you became the Joker?" I asked, my voice growing louder and angrier with every word.

The Joker stopped, he head snapping around to look at me. I knew I had said something wrong, because he smiled and pulled the knife back out of his pocket.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" HE said, walking towards me. I shook my head, but he continued. "I was walking my disabled sister home from the movies one night. Then, out of nowhere, these guys, they, ah, dragged us into an alleyway. They took my money, but they decided that they wanted to have a little fun-ah. So they made me watch as they beat her up. She couldn't even stand without her wheelchair- they laughed at her. And then they killed her and gave me these scars to keep me from talking."

I couldn't help but feel bad for him. My eyes grew big and I whispered, "Really?"

"Nope! I lied," He said, a huge smirk on his face. Goodbye, sympathy. I stared at him with cold hatered.

"Why so serious?" he asked.

I was shaking with fear as he sank down next to me. Holding my head in place with his left hand, he moved the knife towards my mouth. I refused to open it. I wasn't going to make this easy on him. He just laughed at my attempts to stop him and instead moved the knife to my bottom lip. I felt a searing pain, and as the cold knife cut deeper I yelped and jerked my head away.

The Joker wound his fingers in my hair and jerked my head back to face him. I closed my eyes and waited, again, for the pain to come, but instead I felt his lips touch mine.

My eyes flew open in shock. The kiss lasted for no more than a few seconds. When he pulled back I could taste my blood on his lips. He pushed me to the floor and kissed me again. I was surprised to find my lips parting to let him in, my eyes closing as he ran his fingers through my curls.

I heard the clatter of the knife he dropped it on the floor. His freed hand moved up my arm, trailed over my shoulder, and finally found my neck. Suddenly, his hand was wrapped around my windpipe, and my air was gone. He continued to kiss me, but I tried to fight him off. I squirmed underneath him and bit his lip as hard as I could, but neither made him loosen his grip on my neck. As black spots began appearing n my vision, I tasted his blood in my mouth. I choked and sputtered as it ran down my throat. The black spots took over, and seconds later I was out.

I woke up on the bed. I had no idea how much time had passed. All I knew was that I had a metallic taste in my mouth and a raging headache. Everything came back to me within a few seconds, and soon after the questions began to come. Why had he kissed me? Why hadn't he killed me? Was he going to? Why the hell do I even ask these questions anymore? He's the Joker- reason and logic are two of the many things that seem to be missing in his head.

My neck was sore, but the small cuts on my neck and wrist had easily scabbed over. My lip, however, was still in burning pain. I ran my tongue over it and realized that it had been stitched up by someone. I hoped it wasn't the Joker.

The door to my room opened and a man in a clown mask walked in, throwing a bag of food and a water bottle on the bed without a word. He turned to leave, but I grabbed him arm.

"What time is it?" I asked, trying to make my eyes as wide and innocent as possible. He shook me off and mumbled, "The boss said we aren't allowed to tell you."

I faked disappointment as he walked away and closed the door behind him. Dipshit. I had grabbed his watch arm and was able to get a good look at the time. It was one p.m., which meant that in eleven hours Bruce would have to respond to the Joker's demands.

I sat up on the bed and opened the bag of food, only to find cold Chinese takeout leftovers that had obviously been picked over. I swallowed my pride and ate every last bit. Then I chugged the water bottled until it was empty. I wondered what they were giving Will to eat. Was he ok? Had the Joker done something to him?

My thoughts were interrupted when Dipshit re appeared in the doorway to take me to the bathroom. He led me straight across the hall to a small room with only a toilet, a counter, and a small sink. Anything not firmly attached had been taken long ago, including the mirror. I gave him a "don't even think about it" look, and he reluctantly backed into the hallway to wait behind to door.

He led me back to my room, where I sat back down on my bed. This went on for what seemed like days, but was in reality hours. Dipshit would bring me food and water every now and then, and then lead me to the restroom. Every time he knocked on the door, I secretly hoped and feared it was the Joker. But the Joker never re appeared.

Dipshit came into my room for the tenth time that day. But instead of food and water, he brought a pair of hand cuffs. He fitted them on me, but when I winced at how tight they were he unlocked them and made them bigger. I gave him a small smile of gratitude. Maybe Dipshit and I could be friends.

He led me out of the room, but this time we walked down the hall, down a few flights of stairs, and directly outside. The sky was dark and the air was freezing cold, so I rightly guessed it was the middle of the night. He led me towards the familiar van, and when he threw open the doors I saw, to my relief, Will.

Will was uninjured as far as I could tell. He only looked scared, which was what I felt too. Dipshit climbed into the van, followed by a few more men in clown masks. Then the driver's door opened, and the Joker pulled himself into the car. I dropped my head to avoid eye contact, but luckily he seemed to want to employ the same tactic.

"Hold on, kiddies, it's going to be a bumpy ride!" He yelled, chuckling darkly.

The Joker seemed to ignore all the laws of man, traffic, and physics when he drove. The van flew around corners, ran stop lights, and even took the side mirror off of a parked car. The Joker laughed at all of the crashes he caused, at one point doubling over in laughed when an old lady on a walker barley managed to escape the carnage of the van.

Finally, the van came to a screeching stop behind a tall building in the middle of town. I recognized the streets. Wayne Tower was on the other side of the street, so why was the Joker parking behind the Fulton Inc. building?

I was dragged out of the van and pushed into a door, which looked like the service entrance for the building. It was late enough that even the janitors were gone. We packed into an elevator and made out way to the top floor, where we were marched to the stairwell, which led us up to the roof.

The rooftop gave us a clear view of the Wayne tower, which was still not lit up with any color. My heart sank as I realized that the police had probably said something to Bruce about "not negotiating with terrorists". How could Bruce choose between me and Will? I hoped with all of my heart that he chose to save Will. I would be fine. For some reason, the Joker didn't find me expendable, which was as good of a relationship as anyone could hope for with the Joker.

The Joker disappeared into the stairwell for a few minutes, and then re appeared with two folding chairs. He set both of them up and demanded that Will and I sit in them. We didn't argue.

Two men tied us to the chair with rope. My hands, feet, and body were bound to the chair, and there was no way I was getting up. Why did we need all of this restraint? It wasn't like we were going to jump off the building or anything…

That's when I realized what the Joker was going to do. My suspicions were confirmed as the two clown men lifted our chairs, carried them, and set them back down- a few inches away from the edge of the roof. My stomach dropped as I took in the street below, the taxis just a bunch of yellow blurs from this height.

"And it is, ah…. 11:50!" The Joker announced gleefully.

I gulped and looked at Wayne Tower, waiting for the lights to come on. Down on the street there was some sort of commotion. There were police cars, and lots of flashes, like from a camera. I realized that they were reporters. The whole thing made me sick.

The police had thought to check and safeguard Wayne Tower. But no one had thought to look at the building right behind them, the one with to figures sitting way too close to the edge. My heart sank as I realized it was time to accept my fate.

"No, no, Gem, I don't wanna die!" Will said. He started to hyperventilate, his breaths coming fast and short.

"Will, you'll be ok, you'll make it, I promise!" I said back. I wanted to reach over and hug him, but even if my hands were free we were a good three yards apart.

"No, I don't want you to die either! Gemma, I'm so-" His frantic sobs were cut off as something in the sky caught his eye. I followed his gaze. There, shining bright in the sky and clearly outlined on the clouds, was the bat signal.

Things happened very quickly after that. I heard the door to the roof bang open, and the grunts and cries of the masked men as they tried to fight someone off. A few seconds later, the masked men were silent.

"Get away from the kids, Joker." Growled a distorted voice. It confirmed what we already knew: Batman was here to save the day.

I felt a hand on my shoulders and I sighed in relief. I was safe. But as I craned my neck to get a view of my savior, I realized it wasn't batman. The Joker had reached my chair and was holding my life in his hands. One tiny push was all it would take so send me over the edge.

"Now, now, Batty, let's not do anything we might regret!" taunted the Joker. I could see Batman out of the corner of my eyes, too far away to do anything to the Joker that would kill me too.

"You see, madeness is like gravity… all it takes is a little push."

I tipped forward first, and for one moment I was suspended in air as gravity took over. Half a second later, I felt the front legs of the chair slip out from under me, and I went over the edge.


	6. There's A Second Time For Everything

Bam! Look at that super fast update:) I'm nothing if not inconsistent!

Thanks for the reviews, they definetly help me write faster:)

Enjoy!

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><p>I was falling, the air coming at me so fast that I couldn't even scream. I closed my eyes and waited to hit the ground. Instead of hitting the pavement, I felt the ropes around my chest. The wind was knocked out of me as the ropes caught my weight. I was constricted in the chair and could barley breathe, but I wasn't falling any more. I looked up and realized that I was only two stories from the roof, one thick rope holding my chair to the ledge. It was all fake. The Joker was never going to kill me. But Batman didn't know that.<p>

I saw him fling his body over the ledge, his arms spreading as his suit slowed his fall. The second he saw I was safe, it was already too late. He had no choice but to continue the fall. He was able to reach out at the last second and grab the rope holding me to stop his fall. We swung wildly for a few seconds, and my stomach dropped as the ground zoomed in and out of focus. By now people had realized there was something going on at the top of the Fulton building, and the police began to swarm across the street.

I allowed myself a small smile. I was safe, the Batman was here, Will was on the roof… shit. Will was still on the roof with the Joker!

"My brother! He's still up there!" I screamed at Batman. He immediately started to climb back up to rope.

I heard a cold chuckle from above. It was surprisingly loud and sent chills down my spine. I looked up just in time to see Will falling off the edge of the roof. His eyes were wide with terror, and for a split second they met mine. Then he plummeted, faster and faster, gaining speed as the crowd below gasped. I looked away, and the screams and yells from the ground rose up a few seconds later.

I could feel the rope above me trembling as Batman shook with anger. With all his strength and speed, Batman hadn't been able to save Will. He climbed up the rope to the roof, and pulled me up.

When I was safely untied and on the roof, I looked around. There were a few unconscious masked men, but no Joker. He had gotten away.

The months passed by in a blur. The police questioned me for days about the Joker, but I never told them about Jack. Bruce admitted to me that he was Batman. We attended William's funeral, and people walked past us murmuring their shallow condolences. There was so much press coverage that police had to hold reporters back at the cemetery gates. The Joker continued to create chaos on the streets of Gotham, and Bruce continued to go after him. Summer turned to fall and I began my senior year. It was hard to walk through the halls; the looks that people gave me were mixtures of pity and judgment.

It was October, and after an exceptionally bad day at school, I walked into the penthouse. Bruce wasn't home- he was doing something at Wayne Enterprises today. Luckily Alfred was there, and he greeted me with warm hot chocolate. Alfred had been my rock, as well as Bruce's, for the past months, taking care to move us along through life as usual.

I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, looking for anything but the news. But a face on the screen made me stop and frantically click back to a news channel. There was a mug shot on the screen, with, with the name Nicholas Hayes printed under it. The face was very familiar, and I knew why. It was Nick, from my memory. The Nick that Jack had supposedly killed. So why was his picture on the news? He looked very much alive for a dead man.

"There has been an alarming increase in gang related crime over the past decade in Gotham. The number of crime families and mafias in Gotham had more than tripled in the past decade, the latest addition being that of gangs from overseas. Nicholas Hayes, already one of the most infamous criminals in northern England, is just one of the many drug lords now suspected of running a black market arms business through Gotham, a business strengthened by ties to the Maroni crime family…"

I almost choked on my hot chocolate. Not only was Nick alive and well, he was a drug lord, and he was somewhere in the city. Did the Joker know?

I barley heard Alfred as he walked up behind me and switched up the TV.

"You know there are better things to do with your time, Miss Gemma," he said, shaking his head and walking away. I nodded in agreement. The last time I had brought up my past, it had ended with my brother's death. No one else would get hurt because of me.

It was October 30, and the excitement at school was almost tangible. Halloween fell on a Saturday this weekend, which meant this weekend was going to be one nonstop party for every high schooler. The bell had just rung, and everyone was rushing to their lockers, cramming their books in and pulling their coats out. I shoved my backpack into my locker and felt someone tap my shoulder. I spun around with a yelp, but it was only my friend Hannah.

"Hey, Gemma, Allie and me and some of the guys were gonna go to that old burger place on the corner of eighth. You wanna come?" she asked.

"Thanks, Hannah. I'd love too, but it's the thirtieth, so…" I trailed off. I always placed flowers on William's grave on the anniversary of his death, showing up to the cemetery every month without fail.

"Ohhh, right. Sorry. Well, I'll see you around?" she said. I nodded and let out a small smile. I felt bad for all of the people who used to be my friends. Sure, they held my hand and cried with me for the first week after Will died, but by the end of the first month I could tell that they were rolling their eyes behind my back. Everyone wanted to move on with life, and they didn't want me dragging them back.

On the shelf in my locker was a bouquet of flowers I had bought during one of my off hours. I grabbed it and threw on my coat. I walked out of school, shivering in the sudden cold. I started walking down the street. The cemetery was only a ten minute walk, where it sat on the very edge of the city.

Ten minutes passed quickly, and soon I was walking down a small street that was lined with small, cramped houses. It was cold enough that the street was empty and quiet, except for the sound of a dog barking viciously in someone's back yard. I heard a car come up the street, and my heart sped up when I heard it slow down as it got closer to me.

In a few seconds, it was level with me. I could clearly see that it was just a woman in her car. She pulled over the sidewalk and rolled down the window so that she was right next to me.

"Excuse me! Sorry to trouble you, but I'm lost!" she said, sounding flustered. I saw a huge map unfolded over her steering wheel. There was nothing weird or off about her, so I decided it was safe to at least help her.

"Where do you need to get too?" I asked, approaching the window.

"The cemetery. My father just died a few weeks ago… I was there for the funeral, but I wasn't really paying attention to directions, you know…" the woman trailed off, and I saw her eyes tear up.

"Oh, it's just down the street two blocks, and then you take a left!" I said.

"That's not what the map says… I think it might be wrong. Can you come over to the driver's side so that I can show you the map?" she asked. It was a weird request, but I ignored the thought. She was obviously in a lot of distress- she reminded me of, well, me, during the first few weeks after his death.

I walked over to the driver's side of the car, so that I was on the road. It didn't really matter. The only other car on the street was a black SUV, and it had more than enough room to go around me.

The lady rolled down her window and showed me the map. The print was small, so I leaned in to read it.

Behind me I heard the sudden screech of tires as the black SUV stopped right next to me. I knew immediately that something was wrong. I was blocked off on the sides by car and the SUV, but I still had room to run. As I began to sprint up the street, the doors to the SUV opened and two men came out. I was fast, but they were strong. One of them wrapped his arms around my waist, and the other grabbed my legs. I struggled to get out of their grip, but it was no use. They threw me into the back seat of the SUV, where one of them held me down while the other duct taped my hand together, my mouth shut, and my feet together. A few seconds later, the tires squealed, and the SUV sped away.

I realized that none of the men were wearing clown masks, or masks of any kind. I heard a distinctive Scottish accent when one of them answered a ringing cell phone.

"Yeah, we got her. It was easy. What? No, no one was with her, just like you said, Hayes."

Hayes. Nicholas Hayes. The one person who had tried to kill me had just kidnapped me. And to my surprise and disgust, I found myself wishing that the Joker had kidnapped me instead.


	7. Fishing

**So this one's kind of short and expository, but I promise things will be moving along very very soon:) There are only two chapters left in Witness, and I wanted to make sure that they were jam packed with action and nothing too boring!**

**Thanks to my readers and reviewers for being so amazingly consistent. I love you guys, and because so many awesome people read review so much, I've decided to publish the last two chapters before midnight on August 21! I promise:)**

**Enjoy!**

**(This has also been revised a little bit if you read before august 8th, so keep that in mind!) **

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><p>The ride was long and exceptionally boring. I tried to keep track of where we were going, and found that if I lifted my head just a little I was able to see out the window. The car slowed and came to a stop after only fifteen minutes, and I realized that we were at the abandoned Gotham City Private Airstrip. The place was just outside the city limits, and its many hangars had long since been vacated, the city council forgetting about it as more pressing problems sprung up in Gotham.<p>

I was pissed off by now. I wanted this whole thing over and behind me, but suddenly Nick decided to come back to town? There was no way this was a coincidence.

The two men pulled me out and carried me into a nearby hangar. There was a small plane in there, which looked like a private jet, and towers of crates. The men carried me into the jet and sat me down on one of the large reclining chairs, where they duct taped me around the waist. I was stuck in the chair, my hands and feet still bound, and my mouth still duck taped. Great.

The men left without a word, and I was alone. I looked around the jet. It was spacious and luxurious, the main area fitted with four reclining chairs and a table, which was right next to the mini fridge and the plasma screen TV. Apparently the crime business was booming.

I heard a car pull up outside the hangar, and a few minutes later someone was walking up the steps to the jet. The door opened, and there stood the lady from the car by the cemetery. She walked in, smirked at me, and tugged on her brown hair… which was apparently a wig. She grabbed a chair, pulled a small makeup bag from under it, and over the next few minutes transformed from a boring brunette to bleach blonde. She was tall, leggy, and undeniably beautiful, but she had a constant smirk on her face that made her look like a bitch.

"You should have seen the look on your face when they pulled up next to you! It was fricken priceless!" she said, smiling at me as she grabbed a coke from the fridge.

I had a number of things to say to her, but with the tape over my mouth, all I could do was arch an eyebrow at her.

"So how long do we have to wait for this Joker guy? Cause I actually have things to do with my life. I hate being the babysitter all the time."

The Joker? Why would he be coming?

"I can tell you're confused. Believe me, I don't understand how this is gonna work either! I mean, come on, you're pretty, but not _that_ pretty. I doubt the Joker's gonna be your knight in shining armour and rescue you. I mean, who is that desperate?" she cackled.

"What are you talking about?" I said, but it came out as a muffled moan.

"Sorry, I can't hear you! You might have to speak up," she laughed.

I rolled my eyes. This bitch was annoying, and I had a pretty high tolerance for annoying.

"Ok, ok, now it's just getting annoying. Here, let me get that off you." She reached over to me and ripped the duct tape off of my mouth.

"What would the Joker want with me?" I asked as soon as I caught my breath.

"Apparently Nick's putting the word out around town that he has you here. Worst case scenario, the Joker doesn't show up, and we hand you over to the Maronis, who apparently think they can get a lot of money from your uncle for you. Best case scenario, the Joker comes here to save you, we kill him, and we still give you to the Maronis. Apparently Nick has this crazy revenge thing against this guy," she said.

"The Joker isn't going to rescue me. He's the _Joker. _And it's not like he's just gonna walk into a trap like this," I said. I knew that the Joker and I had this weird hate-love-hate relationship, but he wouldn't risk his life to save me, wouldn't he? Then again, he had saved me from Nick before, so why wouldn't he do it again?

"Hey, I never said it was a good plan, hun. I'm just here cause I get paid for this," she said.

The sound of a car pulling up outside made me jump. There was the sound of voices and doors slamming. The door opened and in walked a teenage boy.

"Someone's got to fire that driver!" said the boy, sitting down in a chair.

"Shut it Danny, just because he makes you wear a seatbelt doesn't mean he's a bad person ," said the girl.

"So you're the girl we have to babysit for Nick?" Daniel asked me, more out of curiosity than annoyance.

"Yeah, I guess," I answered. I tried to put the family together in my head. The girl and boy looked releated, but they way they talked about Nick, I could tell he wasn;t their father. So how did they know him?

"Who exactly are you guys?" I asked.

The girl laughed at me and answered. "Allow me to introduce myself! I'm Harley Quinn, and this is my brother Daniel. Our father is Seamus Quinn!"

She paused dramatically, obviously expecting me to have some sort of reaction.

"Ok, he's not as big in Gotham as he is in Ireland, but believe me, he's a powerful man over there. Nick is his... business associate, I guess you could say. He runs things in New York, and my dad runs things in Ireland."

I nodded in understanding. "So how come you and your brother don't have an accent?" I asked.

"We were raised in New York with our mother. She hated my dad, divorced him when I was five. I barely knew my father until I was 18, when my mother died. He took Danny and me over to Ireland for a few years, but we hated it there. It was way too…"

"Green." Daniel finished for her. She nodded in agreement.

Three hours later, we were still talking. The old man had long since dozed off in his chair, but Daniel and Harley kept on talking to me. I was surprised that they were telling me all of this information about themselves, but as Daniel pointed out to me, it wasn't anything I couldn't Google. They obviously didn't talk to people close to their age often, and as the hours passed they grew more comfortable with me, even un-taping my hands and offering me a soda.

I learned that Daniel wasn't cut out to be a mob boss like his father. While he wanted to please him, he when he suffered from asthma attacks was working "in the field", or as Harley put it, "chocked on his own fricken air". Harley returned to New York when shee was 20, where she attempted to get her psychology degree. She was kicked out of school for "behavioral issues", if that's what they called sleeping with every professor at the college. Their father requested that they both work for him, but with Daniel unable to do anything remotely dangerous without suffocating and Harley about as useless as a piece of bubblegum, they were assigned to mundane tasks like making sure hostages didn't die while they were srapped down in posh jets.

Harley explained that she had heard of an asylum in Gotham called Arkham, and they took interns, but only if they were graduates. Arkham was the biggest criminal asylum in the country, and anyone who worked there was automatically respected in the psychology field. Her father would agree to pay for her second try at college, but only if she agreed to help Nick for a few days. Quinn was also paying his son to help out on this job. Since when did mobsters have to pay their children to help out in the family business?

I was surprisingly at ease with the Quinns. They seemed nice enough. There were moments when I didn't like Harley. I didn't know if it was the everlasting smirk she wore on her face or the semi-narcissistic way she spoke, but something was off about her. The way she talked about her father and Nick and the "business" they ran, I could tell she admired them. I didn't understand how someone with so many obvious psychological issues would want to be a psycologist herself.

"Ooh, let's play cards!" Harley suddenly squealed. Daniel and I agreed, so she pulled out a deck and dealt each of us a hand.

"Ok, so we can play go fish, or war. And we totally played war last time, Danny, so don't even say that we never play it!" she said. I rolled my eyes. What college aged girl only knew how to play war and go fish?

"Fine, go fish," Daniel consented, and I smiled as I saw him roll his eyes too.

As we began to play, I thought about a way to casually ask about Nick. I wanted to know as much as I could about him, starting with, "What the hell was he doing alive?"

"So, tell me about Nick," I said, deciding a head on approach would be best.

Danny arched his eyebrows as he looked at his cards. "He's a douche."

"Don't say that! I like Nick! And do you have a three?" asked Harley.

"Go fish," I said. "He tried to kill me when I was five, so I'm gonna have to go with Daniel on this one."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, he's a horrible guy, but he's been through a lot! I mean, he survived a fire! Those burn scars, they scared the living shit out of my when I was a kid. But now, he's so… handsome," said Harley, staring dreamily at her cards.

"Daniel, any aces? How did Nick come to work with your father?" I asked.

"Yeah. God, I hate this game. All we know is that Nick met our dad one day in New York when he was checking on a shipment of- um… stuff. Nick worked down at the docks, and he was such a bad ass looking dude that my dad hired him as a body guard. Nick, in all his doucheness, is smarter than he looks. He worked his way up the ranks in my father's company, and eventually he became his associate."

"So how does Nick know the Joker?" I asked. I knew how Nick knew Jack, but how did he connect him to me and the Joker?

"Well isn't it obvious?" Harley said, pulling a card from the pile. "Getting kidnapped by a guy who wears face paint and is killing half of Gotham made headlines, sweetie. It doesn't hurt that you're a billionaire's daughter. You were big news in Gotham and even in Ireland. Nick saw the picture of you and recognized you, and then realized he knew the Joker. And yeah, we know all about the Joker's secret. He's really a guy named Jack, he kind of likes you, he saved your life, tried to kill Nick, blah blah blah. Fact is, that's not gonna be of much use to anyone. The police have nothing on the Joker, but they also have nothing on Jack. What do they care if they connect him to a convenience store robbery from twelve years ago? All it proves is that the Joker didn't materialize out of thin air. The only way for Nick to get revenge on the Joker is to kill him."

I nodded. It made sense now. Nick obviously wanted revenge on the Joker for trying to kill him. And what better way to get it than to use the Joker's one object of weakness against him?

A car pulled up outside the jet, followed by three more. Judging by the sudden amount of voices, there were a lot of people outside.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Harley threw down her cards and smiled.

"Nick's here."


	8. Recurring Nightmares

**FINAL CHAPTER TOMORROW!**

**This one's short, but enjoy:)**

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><p>Daniel worked on getting me free from the duct tape as Harley rushed out of the plane. Outside I could hear her say hello to Nick in an annoyingly girly voice. Daniel led me off the plane, leaving only my hands bound together. As soon as we reached the steps I could see Nick.<p>

He was tall, blonde, and annoyingly handsome. I recognized the face from my dreams, even though it was twelve years older than it had been. There was one huge difference though, and it was hard to miss. There were burn scars on both of his hands, and the right side of his neck was scarred as well.

He saw me right after I saw him. His smiled at me, but it was a dark smile, the type that people only used when things were going their way.

" Gemma! How nice to finally see you again. It's been too long!" he said in a mockingly amiable voice. He walked up to me and looked me up and down.

"And how you've grown up since then…" he said.

I saw Harley roll her eyes behind him and felt Daniel uncomfortably shift his weight from foot to foot.

Nick reached over and grabbed me by the arm.

"Thanks, sport, I got her now. Why don't you go back into the jet and play cards?" he said to Daniel, riffling his hair like a little league coach talking to a player that sucked at catching.

Daniel scoffed and walked back into the jet, leaving me with Nick and Harley. There were about a dozen men, all unloading things from their respective cards or heading off into a small room inside the hangar.

"Harley, could you give Gemma and I a little privacy?" Nick asked, turning to her and raising his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes and followed Daniel into the jet, slamming the door to the plane shut. A few seconds later, the last of the men disappeared into the other room, and it was just Nick and me.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time, Gemma. The second the Joker arrives, I'll kill him. No games, no dramatic declarations, just revenge. You know, I was going to just give you to the highest bidder after I killed the Joker, but you look so beautiful now that you're all grown up," he said, his hand moving from my arm to my waist. I stumbled backwards and ran, not caring that I had no plan for escape. I ran and ran, and I was a few yards away from the outdoors when I felt myself being grabbed by the neck. Nick hed caught up to me, and now had me pinned in his arms.

"Why are you running?" he whispered, the sound of his breathing right in my ear. "Who do you think the bad guy is? The Joker tried to kill me, and he killed your brother. You think he's your fucking guardian angel or something, but he's not. He's messed up more than either of us could ever understand. He has to die, or more people will get hurt!"

He was right, in some aspects. There was still something about the Joker that made me think he wasn't the villain. Maybe it was because he refused to kill me, for whatever reason. Maybe it was some messed up form of Stockholm syndrome or some other psychological crap. Whatever it was, I was praying to God that the Joker wouldn't try and save me from Nick this time. Because this time, he would die.

The door to the extra room burst open, and a man rushed out of it, heading straight for us. All of the other men followed him, all talking in raised voices. Nick cleared his throat and jumped away from me as the men walked up.

"Uh, sorry for interrupting, boss, but we just heard on the police scanner that the cops are headed for the hangar. Joey called our guy who's undercover andh e confirmed it. We have to move- now."

Nick nodded and began firing off orders as he pulled me over to a car.

"MacConnoughay, Smith, take the other cars. You two get any of the ammunition we still have and put t in the truck. Tell Marcus to get the jet out of here."

Harley poked her head out of the jet, obviously having heard Nick yelling.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The police are coming. Tell your grandfather and Daniel to take the jet to the strip the Maronis use. You take Gemma to the SUV, I'll be right there."

Harley shouted into the jet what Nick had just said, and then ran down the stairs to grab me. She was obviously ecstatic that she would be going with Nick instead of her family. I was in a bad enough mood that I seriously debated karate kicking her smug grin off of her face. I wished I could use my hands. I began to work on loosening to duct tape.

Harley shoved me into the car, and a few second later we were joined by Nick and three other men. Then we were off, speeding out of the hangar and down the road. Behind us I heard the jet come to life as Daniel and Grandpa Marcus prepared for their takeoff.

We were off of the lot in a minute, and back on a main highway in two. No police were chasing us, but everyone was clearly on edge.

"We're following the normal emergency plans," Nick said to the driver. "Go to the hotel of fifteenth and Gotham Row that we always use."

As we drove, I was able to quietly get free of the duct tape around my wrists. After a while, we were once again back in Gotham. We pulled up at a hotel. It was small and dilapidated, and it was in the part of town Bruce used to warn me about. Harley dragged me out of the car, and we followed two of the men who went into the hotel first. The lobby only had one light on, and it looked like no one was there.

"Hey, isn't Reggie supposed to be working the desk?" one of the men asked.

"Yeah," the other answered. "He's usually just sitting here smoking or drinking. Guy's got a total of ten rooms to take care of- not like he's got anything else to do!"

The men laughed at each other, but all of the sudden one of them stopped and bent over, his hands grasping his stomach. Then he dropped to the floor and didn't move.

"Jake!" the other man yelled, rolling over his friend onto his back. There was a knife sticking out of his stomach, one that could only have been thrown with precision and accuracy. I looked over into the corner of the room, and saw the outline of a man. His hand rose, and I could see something in it.

The gun went off, and the second man fell down dead.

Harley screamed, and I took advantage of the distraction to punch her in the face. She was knocked out cold and crumpled to the ground.

Nick and the other man had heard the gunshots and ran inside the hotel, guns drawn. I hurried out of the line of fire and backed into a wall, shaking with fear. The man with Nick yelled out in pain as he got shot in the leg. A few seconds later, and another shot went off, effectively ending his screaming. It was just Nick, me, and whoever was shooting now. Nick realized that I was an easy target. Whoever it was didn't want to kill me, and Nick was going to use this to his advantage. Nick ran over to me and held me against him, the gun pointed at my head.

"Don't do anything or I'll shoot her!" he yelled.

The dark figure lowered his hand.

"Come out into the light!" Nick ordered.

The man walked slowly into the light, Nick swore. It was Nick's worst nightmare, and my recurring one, all over again. It was the Joker, and once again he was trying to save me. Except this time, he wasn't the only one with a gun.


	9. Fire

I AM SO SORRY! Basically, my computer died. Long story short, you shoudln't drink a caramel latte over your keyboard. But here I am, armed with a new computer and the final chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Read and review, please:) Look on my profile and vote about what type of story I should do next if you get the chance. Once again, thanks so much for reading and sticking with me for this story:)

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><p>I pulled at the arm Nick had around me, but I couldn't get free. Instead, I only felt the arm tighten around me and the gun pressed even harder to my skull.<p>

"Hello, Jack. It seems we find ourselves in the same place that we left off twelve years ago," said Nick.

"Let's remember what happened last time-ah…" warned the Joker, walking closer to Nick with his gun still in hand. I let out a whimper as I heard Nick's gun cock in response.

"One more step and she dies!" Nick yelled. The Joker froze. I couldn't see any way out of this that didn't end up with more than one of us in a body bag. Only one option came to mind. It was stupid, a long shot, and very risky, and I knew I had to do it. I was gonna have to be a good actress to pull this one off.

I rolled my eyes back in my head and let my body go limo in his arms. I figured that a sigh would be overkill for a fake faint, so I held off on that one. My acting paid off. Nick, surprised by my fake faint, was doubled over with the sudden body weight he had to support.

The Joker took this time to shoot Nick. The bullet hit him right in the shoulder, and I was dropped to the floor as his he yelled out in pain. The gun dropped next to me, and I grabbed it. I quickly scurried away from him, crouching down next to the reception desk. The Joker walked over to Nick, but stopped just short at the first man he had killed to pull the bloody knife out of his stomach.

The knife was dripping with blood as the Joker walked over to Nick. Nick was lying on the floor, moaning in pain. The Joker stood over him for a few seconds, then leaned down and slit open the sides of his mouth, one at a time. There were a few long moments, were Nick coughed and writhed on the ground in pain. Then he was silent and still.

I was still crouched in the corner, shaking. The Joker advanced on me, and the knife in his hand. I didn't know what he was going to do to me- had he finally decided that he didn't need me anymore? I was angry, and scared. Mostly angry. What he had done to my brother was unforgivable, no matter how much I felt- attached to him. I couldn't explain it. It wasn't love I was feeling. It was more like a dependency- like a drug I was addicted to. I loved how much he made me feel alive, how I was always scared of him but loved how much he scared others.

"Why did you come?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"Why do I do anything, kid?" he asked. He leaned down to look at me, and I shrunk back in fear of the knife in his hands. He realized that he was still holding it, so he dropped it. "Come with me. There's nothing left for you out there in Gotham, only lies and corruption. You are mine now."

I looked at him for a while, staring into his hazel eyes. It was funny; sometimes they were so dark they seemed black, but other times they were so light. I wanted to trust him, to do what he said, but there was something else inside of me that stopped me. William was my brother, and no matter how much I felt like I owed my life to him, I could never forgive him for taking Will's away.

The Joker stood up when I didn't respond. He walked around the reception desk and grabbed a bottle of vodka that had been sitting on the counter. He opened it and poured into a corner of the room, soaking the carpet. I knew what he was doing- he was going to burn all evidence of what had happened here. When he was looking the other way, I looked up at the desk. There was a key marked "Janitor's Closet", and across the room I could see the door with the same name. A plan began to slowly form in my mind.

"You, ah, coming or not, sweetcheeks?" he asked from across the room. I nodded and stood up, walking over to him.

"There's probably something that will help the fire in the janitor's closet." I said. He nodded in agreement, so I took the key from the desk and opened the closet. Not surprisingly, there was nothing cleaning related in the closet, only a few half empty bottles of alcohol and a pile of white sheets that had an ominously red stain on them.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. It would take everything I had to do this, but I couldn't turn back now.

"Jack," I called softly. The Joker entered the closet, and the second he did, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. He didn't seem surprised at all. He returned my kisses and slid his arms around my waist, and held me closer. The kiss went on and on, and I forgot where I was, and after a while, who I was. But I couldn't lose sight of what I was doing. I kissed him one last time, and then used all of my strength to push him down. He landed flat on his back, silent with shock. I turned and ran out of the closet, then slammed the door behind me. My fingers trembled as I shoved the key into the hole and locked it.

"Gemma!" he yelled, banging on the door. I backed away, tears in my eyes, and a few seconds later, the banging stopped. I ran to the desk and grabbed a lighter, then threw it into the corner of the room. The alcohol caught fire, and soon the whole corner was in flames. I took one last look at the men lying dead on the floor, Nick, and the door that I knew Jack was trapped behind. I may have owed the Joker for saving my life, but he took my brother's life. No matter how much I wanted that kiss to go on and on, I wasn't selfish. I wasn't him.

I dropped the key on the desk and walked out the door. Nick's car was still parked, the keys in the ignition. I got into the car and drove away. I didn't look back again.

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><p>Harley Quinn woke with a pounding headache and a lungful of smoke. She coughed and rolled over, looking around the hotel. There were bodies lining the floor, and the shag carpet was soaked with blood. Not to mention the fire burning in the corner of the room. Harley stood up and went over to each body, looking for Nick. She had always had a crush on him, no matter how many times he turned away her advances. The smoke was getting thicker in the room, but she didn't recognize any of the faces in the room as Nick's. There was one bloodied face that could have been Nick's, but before Harley got a chance to look closer, she heard the van outside start and drive away. If Nick wasn't inside, then he must have been… driving away.<p>

_How could he leave me here to die? _Harley thought in disgust. She turned to leave when she heard another sound. There was someone in the closet coughing and banging on the door. Harley ran to the door, but it was locked. She found the key on the desk, and opened the door. To her surprise, it was the Joker.

"Well, hello there," He said with a crooked smile. "What would your name be?"

She smiled back. He looked fun, dangerous. Everything she wanted to be.

"Harley. Harley Quinn."


End file.
